


Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer

by SceptileMasterr



Series: Choices Interconnected Universe [2]
Category: Choices: Most Wanted (Visual Novel)
Genre: CIU Project, Canon Rewrite, Choices Interconnected Universe, F/M, Gen, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 11:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SceptileMasterr/pseuds/SceptileMasterr
Summary: A film screenplay-style rewrite of Most Wanted, Book 1, with some major changes along the way!





	1. Act 1, Scene 1: Death at a Party

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is the exact same fic I've recently started posting on Tumblr, but decided to post it here as well. Why not? This is more-or-less going to follow the basic plot beats from Most Wanted, but with a few significant alterations:
> 
> 1\. This is intended as a sequel to my Endless Summer, Book 1 rewrite. Specifically, it takes place during the six-month time jump toward the end of that story, and there will be plenty of mentions/references relating to ES throughout the story.  
> 1a. Related to this, Rebecca McKenzie will have a MUCH bigger role here compared to canon!
> 
> 2\. A brand new main character, Rhea Sarkar, will be introduced beginning in Chapter 4. Eagle-eyed readers might be able to figure out who she is supposed to be... hint hint, she's from another Choices book... and she might not be the only one, either...
> 
> 3\. The motivations, mystery, and backstory of John Tull have been changed somewhat. This both keeps the mystery... er, mysterious... for everyone who's read the canon book, and also is part of the set-up for my planned MW sequel script (which WILL happen! Promise!)
> 
> 4\. Alyssa Griffin's name has been changed to Aly Griffin to avoid confusion with the MC Alyssa from my Endless Summer script.
> 
> Other changes will be noted as they appear. Enjoy!

FADE IN:

EXT. CORDILLERA TOWERS - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

_The glittering Los Angeles skyline provides a beautiful backdrop to the glamorous Hollywood wrap party in full swing at the rooftop bar. Dozens of young, attractive adults mix and mingle, talking and laughing and drinking. A young woman, THERESA HOLLAND, sits down at the bar next to a man about the same age, LOGAN MILLS._

**THERESA:**  A mojito, please.

 **LOGAN (simultaneously):**  A mojito, please.

_They both glance over at each other and laugh awkwardly as the bartender shrugs and goes to get them their drinks._

**THERESA (flirtatiously):**  Well. Looks like  _somebody’s_ got good taste in drinks…

 **LOGAN:**  What can I say? I love a good mojito.

 **THERESA:**  Hope that’s not the only thing you’ve got good taste in.

_She leans closer to him, laughing softly. The bartender brings them their mojitos, and they each take a sip._

**THERESA:**  Mmm. This is  _good._

_She holds out her hand for a handshake._

**THERESA:**  I’m Theresa, by the way. What brings you here?

_He shakes her hand._

**LOGAN:**  Logan. Believe it or not, I’m a screenwriter.

_He laughs awkwardly._

**LOGAN:**  Er…  _aspiring_ screenwriter, anyway. But I know a guy who knows a guy, and, y’know… here I am.

 **THERESA:**  Hey, I’m not judging. You don’t really look like a writer, though…

 **LOGAN:**  What does a “writer” look like, then?

 **THERESA:**  Less attractive, for one.

 **LOGAN:**  Are you complaining?

 **THERESA:**  Not at all. Hell, I wish more of them looked like you, and less like…  _that_ guy.

_She points toward an older, heavyset, bearded man at a nearby table, GAVIN ROUTH, who is glowering angrily at another man across the table from him._

**LOGAN:**  You’re kidding, right?  _Gavin Routh?_

 **THERESA:**  What? He’s ugly.

 **LOGAN:** You’re not wrong, but he’s not what I’d call a  _writer,_  either. More like… trashy and sleazy and gross and…

 **THERESA (laughing):**  Alright, I get the idea!

 **LOGAN:**  I never asked, by the way. What do you do?

 **THERESA:**  I’m an actress. I’ve done all the big starring roles: Random Gator Victim #4 on  _Louisiana Vice_ , and–

_Logan, looking past her over her shoulder, suddenly widens his eyes in shock._

**LOGAN:**   _GUN!_  GET DOWN!

 **THERESA:**  What the-

_Logan grabs her hand and pulls her down behind the bar just as a shotgun blast goes off behind her. Just behind where Theresa had been sitting stands JOHN TULL, a middle-aged, disheveled, grizzled man. He points a sawed-off shotgun into the air as everyone around him screams and runs toward the stairwell._

**TULL:**   _Run._

 **THERESA (whispering):**  Oh my God… Oh my God…

 **LOGAN (whispering):**  Holy  _shit!_

_As Gavin runs along with the crowd, approaching the stairs, Tull growls and points his shotgun at him._

**TULL:**  Not you, Gavin.  _You’re_  not going anywhere.

_Gavin turns with his back to the edge of the rooftop, a look of abject terror on his face. He shakily raises both of his hands into the air._

**GAVIN (whimpering):**  Please! Don’t shoot! I’ll pay anything! I’ll  _do_ anything!

 **TULL:**  “Anything?” How about  _dying?_

 **LOGAN (whispering):**  That psycho’s gonna kill him! We’ve gotta do something!

 **THERESA (whispering):**  What?! Are you crazy? You can’t-

 **LOGAN (whispering):**   _Someone_  has to. We can’t just let him die!

 **THERESA (whispering):**  Logan,  _no!_

_Logan grabs an empty beer bottle from the bar and charges toward Tull. Before he can reach Tull, he steps on a dropped glass, which shatters loudly. Tull turns at the noise._

**TULL:**  Well, what do we have here? Some pretty boy hero?

 **LOGAN (shakily):**  Put the gun down. Put the gun down, and step away from that man.  _Now!_

 **TULL (smirks):**  Funny thing about reality… “pretty boy heroes” don’t get far.  **(to Gavin)**  Let’s see if you can fly.

_He turns back to Gavin and pulls the trigger. Gavin’s stomach erupts in a spray of blood as he topples backward over the railing. Theresa shrieks, and Tull whirls toward the noise._

**LOGAN:**  Hey! Over here, asshole!

_Logan charges Tull. Faintly, the impact of Gavin’s body on a car on the street below can be heard. Tull looks at Logan with a brief look of regret in his eyes before he pulls the trigger once more. Logan keeps moving forward, powered by adrenaline, until the blood loss overcomes him and he stumbles and collapses barely a few feet away from Tull._

**LOGAN:**  No… not… like… this…

_Tull leans over the railing and spits after Gavin._

**TULL (muttering):**  I’ll find her. I’ll find her, if I have to blast this whole damn place to  _hell._

_He turns and stalks down the stairwell._

TITLE OVER:  **“Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer”**


	2. Act 1, Scene 2: The Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave Reyes: charmer, gambler, and detective extraordinaire.

INT. RYAN SUMMERS’ RESIDENCE - NIGHT

 

BEGIN TITLES

 

_On a large television screen, a NEWSCASTER reads the evening news._

**NEWSCASTER:**  In other news, investigations are continuing into the disappearance of Flight 157, the plane that had mysteriously vanished en route to the Caribbean. Eleven students of Hartfeld University have been reported missing in connection with the flight. Everett Rourke, CEO of Rourke International and sponsor of the trip, remains unable to be reached for comment…

_As the newscaster speaks, the camera slowly zooms out to reveal DAVE REYES, a clean-shaven, immaculately-dressed detective, lounging casually in his seat at a poker table. Also at the table are RYAN SUMMERS and ALY GRIFFIN, two Hollywood stars. Dave scoops a large amount of poker chips into his pile._

**DAVE:**  So… another round?

 **RYAN:**  You mean another chance to clean you out, Reyes?

 **ALY:** Big talk from  _you,_  Summers.  **(to Dave)**  I’m in. Deal.

_Dave smirks and deals out a fresh set of cards. As he deals, he glances over toward the TV._

**RYAN:**  I know that look. Still stuck on that case, huh?

 **ALY:** What, the La Huerta disappearance? That’s, like, the other side of the world! Why would Dave-

 **RYAN:**  “Other side of the world?” It’s the Caribbean, not Australia.

 **DAVE:**  Well, you two know me. I can’t resist a good mystery.

_He looks at his cards, maintaining a perfect poker face._

**DAVE:**  Raise. One grand.

 **RYAN:**   _Bullshit._  Nobody’s  _that_ lucky. I see you and raise another five grand.

_Aly locks eyes with Dave, trying to read his expression, but he maintains his poker face. Finally, she blinks and looks away._

**ALY:** Damn it. I fold.

 **DAVE:**  One down, one to go. I raise again.

 **ALY:** So what the hell happened with that, anyhow? Eleven kids win a vacation and then vanish?

 **DAVE:**   _Twelve_ kids, actually. Plus the pilot and tour guide, and get this:  _Rourke himself._

 **RYAN:** You’re  _joking._

_Dave shakes his head._

**DAVE:**  Near as I can tell, anyway. Not to mention, the eleven winners are complete randoms: most of ‘em aren’t even from rich families or anything. Seriously weird case.

_Ryan glances at his cards again. Dave watches him closely._

**DAVE:**  Y’know, maybe you should fold. I’m gonna feel bad taking all your hard-earned money… well, your  _money,_  anyway.

 **RYAN:** What is this, reverse psychology? I’m on to your tricks, Reyes. Not falling for it. I fold.

_Dave breaks into a grin and eagerly scoops up the rest of the chips._

**ALY:**  I  _knew_ I shouldn’t have folded last round! I had a-

 **DAVE:**  A king and a low card, four or five most likely. Both hearts.

 **ALY:**  Okay, how the  _hell_ …?

 **RYAN:**  C’mon. He’s a detective. That’s kinda his thing.  **(beat)**  …Remind me never to play poker with you again, Dave.

 **DAVE:**  I keep reminding you, yet you keep playing anyway. Guess some people just  _love_ losing money.

 **ALY:** Well, consider me impressed. Guess you’re the real deal. Most of the guys I know only  _pretend_ to be action heroes.

 **RYAN:** I’m sitting right here, you know.

 **ALY:** Oh, I know.

 **RYAN:**  You know what, Aly? You’re one to talk-

_He is interrupted by a cell phone ringing. Dave sheepishly pulls out his phone, intending to shut it off, until he sees the caller ID. He quickly changes his mind and answers it._

**DAVE:**  Captain?  **(pause)**  You know I’m always ready. What happened-  **(pause)**   _Damn._  And he wanted me specifically?  **(pause)** Huh. I’ll be there. **(pause)**  Right. Will do.

_He hangs up the call. Aly and Ryan look at him expectantly._

**RYAN:**  Don’t tell me you’re leaving us  _already?_

 **DAVE (shrugs):**  Hate to be the buzzkill, but you know how it is. Duty calls.

 **ALY:** What happened?

 **DAVE:**  No idea. Something happened at Khouri’s wrap party, apparently. He wants me specifically.

 **ALY:**  He asked for  _you?_  That’s… strange.

 **DAVE:**  No kidding. I don’t even  _like_ the guy.

_He gets up to leave._

**DAVE:**  Sorry to cut and run. Let’s do this again sometime, huh?

 **RYAN:**  Hey, work is work. I get it.

_He gestures to the large pile of poker chips on Dave’s side of the table._

**RYAN:**  But next time,  _you_ can pay for the drinks.

 **DAVE:**  Ha. Fair enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless Summer references ahoy! The first of many...


	3. Act 1, Scene 3: The Marshal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Massey: here to get the job done, with no time for nonsense.

EXT. CORDILLERA TOWERS - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

 

_Dave emerges from the stairwell onto the rooftop. Yellow police tape cordons off the scene surrounding Logan’s body, but the area is otherwise untouched. Two police officers, OFFICER BARTON and OFFICER SANCHEZ, stand near the bar, conversing in low voices. Just outside the police tape, OTIS KHOURI paces nervously, wringing his hands. When he spots Dave, his eyes light up and he immediately crosses over to him._

**OTIS:**   _Dave!_  Dave, thank God. About time you showed up.

_Dave attempts to brush past him to join Barton and Sanchez, but Otis blocks his path again._

**OTIS:**  I asked those two to call you the second they showed. It’s a nightmare.  _Literal_ nightmare. Can you imagine what this will do to my property values?! Not to mention the-

 **DAVE:**  Alright, alright, Otis, calm down. I’m here, I’ll solve this. Just breathe.

 **OTIS:**  Look, I need this wrapped up  _quick._  I’d really rather the media not get a hold of this-

_Dave holds up a hand, interrupting him._

**DAVE:**  Yep, okay. If you want this done quick, that means you’d better help me out. First things first, do you know if anyone got a video or picture of the attacker?

 **OTIS (shakes head):** What? No, of course not, it all happened too quickly.

 **DAVE:**  Alright. I’m gonna take a look around. Let me do my thing, stay out of my way, and I’ll have this wrapped up before you know it. Deal?

 **OTIS (nervously):**  …Deal.

_He finally backs off, and Dave joins Barton and Sanchez near the bar._

**BARTON:**  Reyes! There you are. Finally. That guy wouldn’t shut up about you. He says he’s a friend of yours?

 **DAVE:**  In the Facebook sense, anyway. So what does he need  _me_ for?

_Dave walks over to examine Logan’s body._

**SANCHEZ (shrugs):**  Beats me. He didn’t seem to think we could “handle it.” Didn’t wanna give us  _anything._

_The three of them gaze for a moment at Logan’s bloodied body._

**SANCHEZ:**  Hell of a case, though. Poor kid.

_Dave nods before stepping gingerly around the body and over to the railing, leaning over the edge to gaze at the spot where Gavin had fallen._

**DAVE (muttering):**  We’ll get the bastard who did this.

_He stares down at the spot for a long moment, then turns back to look around the scene once again._

**DAVE:**  So, what have you found so far? Witnesses, evidence, anything?

 **BARTON:**  McKenzie’s downstairs talking with a “Theresa something” who was at the scene. Poor girl seemed pretty shook up.

 **SANCHEZ:** Also, found this.

_He holds up a clear evidence bag, inside which is a bright red shotgun shell._

**SANCHEZ:**  It was in the ice bucket, right there near the bar.

_He points to a spot on the bar very close to where Gavin had fallen. Dave whistles softly._

**DAVE:**  Point-blank. _Damn._  Who the hell  _was_ this guy?

 **OTIS:**  Some goon of Li’s, it’s gotta be, right? I mean, she  _hates_ people like me!

 **DAVE (under his breath):**  Can’t say I blame her.

 **OTIS:**  Wait, what was that?

_Dave shakes his head, continuing to examine the crime scene as he speaks._

**DAVE:**  Public, cold-blooded murder  _really_ ain’t her style. I’ve definitely gone after her enough times by now to know _that._  This was too premediated, too public for her. She’s more of a shadow thief.

 **OTIS:**  What, you know any  _other_ big-time lawbreakers runnin’ around here with a grudge against honest money like me?

_Dave frowns._

**DAVE:**  Well, not at the moment, no, but give me ten minutes at the precincts and I could come up with a few names-

 **SAM:**  …Or I could give you  _one_ name. Right now.

_Dave, Barton, Sanchez, and Otis all turn to see a blonde woman, wearing a black leather jacket over a red shirt, standing at the entrance to the stairwell. This is SAM MASSEY, U.S. Marshal. She scowls at the four men as she approaches Dave._

**SAM:**  Let me guess. Shotgun shell, hit from point-blank range, done by the kinda creep who wants to watch his victims die. Ballistics report is gonna tell you it was a sawed-off shotgun too.

_Everyone stares, stunned, at her analysis._

**DAVE:**  I’m sorry, ma’am… but… who  _are_  you, and why are you at my crime scene?

 **SAM:**  Sam Massey. Deputy U.S. Marshal. And I’m here to catch the bastard who did this.

_She holds out a hand. Dave hesitates before shaking it, each of them gripping the other’s hand a bit more tightly than strictly necessary._

**DAVE:**  David Reyes. L.A.P.D. Major Crimes Division.

_There is a palpable silence as each of them sizes up the other. Tension fills the air._

**DAVE:**  And if I understand this right, you’re chasing a killer, and you think it’s your guy who did this?

 **SAM:**  Got it in one. John Tull. Murdering psychopath from somewhere up in the Cascades, escaped from our custody a few days ago. This whole scene is  _exactly_ his M.O.

 **OTIS:**  Wait, wait, you’re tellin’ me some psychotic jackass jus’ up and decided to shoot up my party for, what, no reason? You sure you ain’t tryin’ to pull a fast one on me? You want my money, don’t you?

 **SAM:**   _…What?!_  No! I’m a goddamn  _U.S. Marshal._ Weren’t you even listening?

_She pulls out her badge. Otis steps back and puts his hands up in surrender._

**OTIS:**  Okay, okay, take it easy. Can’t be too careful these days, right?

_Dave peers at the badge, looking puzzled._

**DAVE:**  You’re West Texas branch?

 **SAM:**  That’s right.

 **DAVE:**  Now, my geography might not be the best, but I’m  _pretty_ sure L.A. isn’t in West Texas. Nor are the Cascades, for that matter.

 **SAM:**  Don’t ask  _me_ what the hell Tull was doing in my turf, or what he’s doing  _here_ for that matter. He ended up in Texas, we got the tip from Interpol, we locked Tull up, he escaped, he came here, I followed him. Got it?

 **DAVE:** Alright, alright, just asking. Look, as much as I appreciate the Marshals stepping in to lend a hand-

_Sam crosses her arms and steps closer to Dave, getting in his face._

**SAM:**  Look. Reyes, was it? I get it, you think I’m gonna upset the little “boys’ club” you’ve got going on in the force here-

 **DAVE:**   _What?!_  That’s not it at all-

 **SAM:**  -but I’ve got a job to do. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ve come a long way to get this guy, so from now on… stay out of my way.

_Dave takes several deep, calming breaths._

**DAVE:** Listen. Right now, we can’t say for sure whether this is your guy’s doing or not. So either you wait until we get some proof, in which case you’ll be my first call, or if you’ve got a problem with that, you can talk to my captain at the precinct. Okay?

_He flashes her a dazzling smile. She scowls back._

**SAM:**  …No.

_For what is probably the first time in his life, Dave is utterly at a loss for words._

**BARTON:**  Look, Dave, maybe you should back off a little, she seems serious.

_Sam fixes him with a glare. Barton goes silent._

**SAM:**  Alright, Reyes, you want proof? Let’s go to the tape.

 **OTIS (frantically):** What tape? There’s no tape! I already told him, nobody filmed anything!

 **SAM:**  Then what the hell do you think  _that_ is?

_She points to a small, dark CCTV camera lens mounted on one of the lampposts near the pool._

**OTIS:**  Oh. That? It’s, uh, broken! Yeah! It was broken-

_Sam suddenly grabs Otis and wrenches his arms behind his back, shoving him up against the bar._

**SANCHEZ:** Hey! You can’t-

 **BARTON (simultaneously):** What the hell d’you think you’re-

 **SAM:**  “Broken,” my ass! This looks to  _me_ like a little obstruction of justice, don’t you think? Maybe we’ll book you for homicide too, while you’re at it. Ever been to jail?

 **DAVE:** Marshal, I think you’d better-

 **OTIS:**  Hey! You can’t do this! You don’t even have a warrant! I could have fifty lawyers on your ass so fast-

 **SAM:**  Think they’ll help you if you’re in prison?

 **OTIS:**  ‘Course they will! There’s gonna be hell to pay! I swear, I am gonna-

_Dave steps in between Sam and Otis, pushing them apart. Sam stares at Dave angrily._

**SAM:**  Reyes, what are you-

 **DAVE:**  Sorry about that, Otis. Look, this camera thing, you said it was broken, right?

 **OTIS:**  Y-yeah! Of course! That’s right!

_Sam frowns, shaking her head in disbelief as Dave continues._

**DAVE:**  That’s a real shame. I know you said you wanted to keep all this quiet, but to ID our shooter, we’re gonna need more witnesses. For that, we’ll have to go to the press. Hate to do that to you, but you know how it is.

 **OTIS (suddenly terrified):**  No! You wouldn’t… You can’t do that to me! I’d be  _ruined!_

 **DAVE:**  There’s no getting around it now. Sorry to break it to you, but the story about the grisly, terrifying murder is gonna end up playing every few minutes on every TV in the state.

_Otis steps backward, shaking his head, clearly starting to panic._

**DAVE:**  …Of course, if we had some  _other_ way of identifying this guy, like, say, security camera footage… none of that would be necessary-

 **OTIS:**  Okay! Okay, you got me. The camera works just fine. You have to understand, I got that one set up for security purposes, I’m very wealthy-

 **DAVE:**  Don’t need to hear it. Just get us the footage, okay?

 **OTIS:**  Absolutely! Definitely! Can do! Right away!

_He heads toward the stairwell. Sam and Dave follow, with Barton and Sanchez bringing up the rear. Dave shoots Sam a knowing look, and she huffs and looks away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice two changes here: yes, John Tull is from the Cascade Mountains here, not the Ozarks. That was very much intentional. And also, who could this "Li" that Dave mentioned be? Let's just say we might be seeing her in person at some point...


	4. Act 1, Scene 4: The Journalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhea Sarkar: fresh out of college and eager for a story.

INT. CORDILLERA TOWERS - LOBBY

 

_Meanwhile, Theresa, red-eyed from crying, is sitting in an armchair in the building’s lobby, being interviewed by a young policewoman with auburn hair. The policewoman is REBECCA MCKENZIE, Dave’s junior partner on the force._

**REBECCA:**  It’s okay to be upset. With what you saw, anyone would be.

_She passes Theresa a tissue. She takes it gratefully and wipes her eyes._

**THERESA:**  Who  _was_ that creep? Why’d he have to go and… and…

_Rebecca shakes her head in sympathy._

**REBECCA:**  Anything else you can tell us would be appreciated. We’re gonna catch this guy, I promise.

_The entrance to the lobby slides open, and a young woman, RHEA SARKAR, enters. She wears a grey blazer over a white shirt, with matching grey slacks, and has her straight black hair pulled back into a ponytail. In her hands she carries a notepad and pencil. Her face lights up with excitement when she spots Rebecca in her uniform, and she immediately walks over to her and Theresa. Rebecca stands up when she notices the new arrival._

**REBECCA:**  Excuse me, miss, this building is restricted. A murder took place here the other-

 **RHEA (brightly):**  Yep! I know! That’s why I’m here, actually. I’m working on an article for-

 **REBECCA:**  An article? You’re paparazzi?

 **RHEA (shrugs):**  I wouldn’t go  _that_ far. Just wanting to get the truth out there, y’know? Please? This could be a big story, and-

 **REBECCA:**  I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?

_Rhea startles at the question._

**RHEA:**  Oh! Oh, my bad, I’m so sorry! Rhea Sarkar, newest editor for the  _Hollywood Star!_

_Rhea holds out a hand, and Rebecca shakes it briefly._

**REBECCA:**  Officer McKenzie. Listen, I’m not sure if I can clear you for this right now-

 **RHEA:** Oh, right, that’s okay! Even if I could just look around a little, get a feel for the place, I’m sure I could write something! If you’d just let me-

_Before Rebecca can respond, the elevator doors slide open, and Dave, Sam, and Otis emerge, all three of them arguing._

**SAM:**  -so no more desk jockey nonsense, got it? We’ve got the proof, everyone stay out of my way-

 **DAVE:** The captain isn’t gonna be too happy about this, you really ought to check in with-

 **SAM:**  Look, get out of my hair! Don’t you have better things to do with your time?

 **DAVE:** _Yes,_  actually! I was working on a big missing persons case before I got specifically tapped for this one-

 **OTIS:**  But wait, what happens now? What about the press? What about my  _insurance?_  My  _reputation_ is at stake here-

**SAM AND DAVE:** _SHUT UP!_

_Otis immediately falls silent. Rebecca, Rhea, and Theresa all turn to look at the new arrivals._

**REBECCA:**   _Dave!_  So glad you’re here. This journalist just showed up, asking for… wait, who’s that?

 **DAVE:**  Rebecca, this is Sam Massey, U.S. Marshal. She’s been chasing the guy who did this. Sam, this is my junior partner, Officer McKenzie. Best damn rookie I’ve ever seen. Including myself when I was her age.

_Sam looks surprised for a moment, but says nothing to Rebecca._

**RHEA:**  Wait, is that  _Otis Khouri?!_  Hold on, you own this place, don’t you? Listen, can I ask you a few questions-

 **OTIS:**  Reyes, I thought you said you’d keep this silent!

 **DAVE:**  Yeah, I did.  **(to Rhea)**  Look, kid, I dunno if Officer McKenzie told you already, but we’ve got this whole thing closed to the press. Law enforcement only for now. If you wait long enough, though, once the details of the case get released to the public, I’m sure you could write a great piece on it.

_Rhea’s face falls._

**RHEA:** Sure, me and every  _other_ writer in the city…

 **REBECCA:** So, what happens now? Is the Marshal workin’ with us on this, or…?

_She gestures toward Sam. Dave shrugs._

**DAVE:**  Beats me. She seems to think she ought to go charging into L.A. on her own, guns akimbo like some-

 **SAM:**  I already  _told_ you, I work best alone, this is  _my_ fugitive-

 **DAVE:**  And this is  _my_ city! Where do you think you’d be right now if I hadn’t stepped in when I did up there? Think you can catch this guy from the inside of a courtroom, do you?

 **SAM:**  Well, Tull sure as hell ain’t gonna lock himself back in jail ‘cause you  _asked_ nicely, pretty boy!

 **DAVE:**  So what do  _you_ expect to do, beat up half of Hollywood until you find him?

 **SAM:**  What I do is none of your business, go back to your other “big case” and let me do my job, okay?

 **RHEA (hesitantly):**  Uh, Marshal, ma’am? If you need a partner, maybe I could help with-

_Sam fixes Rhea with a death glare._

**SAM:**  I. Work.  _Alone._

 **RHEA (muttering):**  Geez, okay, okay! Just thought I’d ask…

 **DAVE:**  All  _I’m_ asking is that you wait until you get the chance to clear this with Captain Beckham. Right now, I don’t feel comfortable with you going over her head on this-

 **BECKHAM:** “Going over my head” on  _what?_

_Everyone turns at the sound of her voice to see CAPTAIN BECKHAM standing at the entrance to the lobby. She is a tall, powerful-looking woman with short black hair and an air of absolute confidence and authority. She fixes Sam with a stern gaze._

**BECKHAM:**  You must be the Marshal. Massey, was it?

_Sam blinks in stunned surprise, then stands up straight and faces the captain._

**SAM:**  Yes, ma’am. Sam Massey, Deputy Marshal, West Texas Branch-

 **BECKHAM:** Yes, yes, I know. I pulled your paperwork earlier today. It looks like you pulled some strings to get yourself assigned here.

_Beckham frowns suspiciously. Sam swallows hard, clearly nervous._

**SAM:**  I… may have called in a few favors. Appreciate the hospitality, ma’am. Promise to keep my investigation quick.

 **BECKHAM:**  Excuse me?  _Your_ investigation? Deputy Marshal, you are a guest of  _my_ unit, and as such, you will be working alongside one of  _my_ officers.

 **RHEA:**  That doesn’t sound like a good idea, she said she works alone-

_Beckham notices Rhea for the first time._

**BECKHAM:**  I’m sorry,  _who_ is this?

 **REBECCA:**  Some small-time reporter who wandered in here. My apologies, Captain, I was just asking her to leave-

 **BECKHAM (to Rhea):** This case is none of your concern. You will leave now and keep away from the investigation. Understood?

 **RHEA:**  But I just wanted to-

_Beckham glares at her. Rhea stops mid-sentence and backs away slowly toward the door._

**RHEA:**  Right. Keep away. Got it. I’m sorry. Leaving now!

_She exits the building. Beckham turns her attention back to Dave, Sam, and Rebecca._

**BECKHAM:**  As I was saying, Marshal, you will be working  _alongside_ my unit, not  _outside_ it. Reyes, I’m officially keeping you on this case. You are to work with Deputy Massey to track down this murderer and bring him to justice. Understood?

 **SAM:** What? I’m sorry, ma’am, but…  _him?!_

 **BECKHAM:**  He is my best detective. I can think of no better officer for the job.

 **DAVE:**  With all due respect, Captain, I’ve already gotten what we needed from Otis, and McKenzie and I are still working on the other case-

 **BECKHAM:**  McKenzie,  _you_ will continue working on the La Huerta case while Reyes tracks down Tull. You’ve proven yourself more than capable of handling this on your own without his help.

 **REBECCA:**  You’re… you’re splitting us up?!

 **BECKHAM:**  That is correct. Reyes, for the duration of the John Tull case… I’m assigning Deputy Massey as your new partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it's Rhea! This certainly isn't the last we'll be seeing of her... oh, and also, more ES references :D


End file.
